


memory lane up in the headlights

by duchessofavalon



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Feelings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchessofavalon/pseuds/duchessofavalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler Brown isn’t a guy that’s overly given to feelings, is the thing. But, fuck, there’s something about the guy driving the car right now that manages to turn him into one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	memory lane up in the headlights

**Author's Note:**

> End of summer, stream-of-consciousness feelings vomit. Intentionally unbetaed, because this isn't a story, it's just a giant pile of feelings.

They’re both quiet on the drive back from Mississauga. Probably for different reasons, Tyler figures, but that’s fair enough. It’s not really comfortable, though, and he hates that, hates that he managed to fuck things up with Segs so thoroughly that it’s taking them forever to get back to the way they used to be.

 

(He refuses to accept that they might never get back there. It’s Segs. They have to be okay, those few months they weren’t speaking were some of the worst of Tyler’s life, Julie or no Julie.)

 

Tyler Brown isn’t a guy that’s overly given to feelings, is the thing. But, _fuck_ , there’s something about the guy driving the car right now that manages to turn him into one.

 

It’s been a long summer. Between not talking to Segs, the disaster that was attempting to live with Julie, and then Segs getting traded to Dallas and the flood of everything that came after, this feels like the longest offseason of Tyler’s life, and he’s still not ready for it to be over. Summer being over means hockey, and that’s great, but he can’t even think about the fact that the big club might actually be starting to pay attention to him when all he can focus on is the way the lights on the highway light up the edge of Segs’ jaw, and how he can barely see the slight curve of his lips, and how long it’s been since Tyler had the opportunity, never mind the time, to just - _explore_ , and exploit, taking his time, and - well, it doesn’t matter. If they’re not even back to the point where they can comfortably be silent in the car with each other, there’s no way they’re back there.

 

But he can’t help flashing back to that first night in Toronto, after they’d partied their faces off at Gracie’s, stumbling back into Segs’ place - _their_ place, Segs had insisted, even though Tyler hadn’t been there all summer - at ass o’clock in the morning, at that heavy stage of drunk where it’s not quite fun anymore and all you want to do is curl up somewhere comfortable and cool and sleep. He’d had his arm around Segs’ shoulder to keep them both on their feet, but somewhere between the front door and the stairs that had turned into Segs pulling him into the master with him, and Tyler wasn’t gonna complain when Segs was really the only person he’d ever been actually comfortable sharing a bed with. And a part of him figured maybe this was good, maybe this was a step back in the right direction toward the way things used to be, because once upon a time (before girlfriends who didn’t like it, before the advent of Fred Gervasi) they’d shared a bed all the time, any time they wanted, because Segs craved touch like no one Tyler had ever met, and from the beginning Tyler had always been more than happy to give it to him.

 

They’d fallen into bed that night after drunkenly pulling their clothes off and kicking Marshall out, because it was too hot and he was a furnace, and Segs had started typing on his phone to himself as Tyler turned the bedside lamp off.

 

“The fuck are you giggling about?” Tyler’d asked gruffly, burying his face in his pillow like the world, or at least the glow from Segs’ iPhone screen, personally offended him.

 

“Just fixin’ something, go to sleep, grumpy,” Segs had said, reaching his free hand over to rub at Tyler’s shoulder. He should’ve gotten a clue when he saw that Segs had his phone too, but he was too tired and drunk at that point to care, which was why he woke up the next morning to about a billion comments and likes on his status update that he was “In A Relationship With Tyler Seguin” on Facebook.

 

Which, whatever. Not like that was anything new. But it certainly hadn’t curbed his desire to corner Segs against the kitchen counter and just go to town on that spot on his neck that Tyler knows makes him whine.

 

And that’s the thing - should he even know that anymore?

 

“We’re home.”

 

Tyler blinks, startling when he realizes Segs is parking the car. “Huh?”

 

“Wouldn’t expect you to have noticed. You’ve been brooding the entire ride,” Segs says, sliding out of the car. “Dude. Are you sleeping out here, or what? C’mon.”

 

Right. Getting out of the car.

 

Marshall greets them at the door when they get upstairs, and Segs quickly snaps a leash on to take him outside. He doesn’t ask if Tyler wants to come, because it’s not last summer.

 

He drops his keys and phone on the counter next to Segs’ stuff, and he doesn’t mean to read the text that pops up on the screen as he reaches for the charger to plug his phone up, but he reads it anyway.

 

> **freddy bender**   
> _dude. last night. do or die, pansy. and by that i mean do it bc if i have to listen to ur ass whine and pine n e more ur gonna die_

 

Tyler blinks. The fuck does that even mean.

 

“Hey. I get any messages while I was out?” Segs asks as he comes back in. “He’s getting better at being quick out there. Good omen for trying to drive to Dallas.”

 

“Ugh.” Tyler can’t help himself; the noise of general disgust at the word ‘Dallas’ comes out before he can stop himself. He immediately regrets it when Segs’ face falls. “Sorry, Segs, I just - “

 

“Yeah.”

 

And damn it, Segs’ face is all shuttered, and as someone who is the master of locking down emotions, Tyler recognize the signs of someone else trying to do it pretty easily.

 

“Ty,” he says quietly. He waits till Segs looks up at him before he keeps talking. “You’re gonna be great.”

 

“Damn it, Brownie.” Segs is mad, suddenly, forehead creasing, mouth going tight, and Tyler’s not really sure what he did.

 

“What?”

 

“You can’t just _do_ that, you can’t - “

 

“Do what? Segs, what the fuck, man, I’m just trying to help. I just - “

 

“You just what, Brownie?” Segs is right in front of him now, toe-to-toe, which, whoa, when did that happen. “You _what_.” His voice is rough, almost like he’s daring Tyler, but like every other time these days, Tyler doesn’t know what the dare is, and he hates that he has to second-guess himself like this.

 

“I just want you to be happy,” Tyler tells him, “and I think you could be in Dallas, if you’d just - “

 

“No.” Segs shoves at his shoulder, hard, and yeah, he’s definitely pissed now. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to disappear for _months_ , ignoring me for Julie, and then come waltzing back into my life telling me you want me to be _happy_ , what the _fuck_.”

 

Oh. So they are gonna talk about that.

 

Segs is, at least, because he’s apparently just getting started. “I was already happy, fuck you very much, and then you fucked right off with your perfect girlfriend and your adorable happy life, and you didn’t even - “ He cuts himself off this time, dragging a hand back through his hair, his breathing heavy. “It took me getting _traded_ , Brownie. Fuck. It shouldn’t have fucking taken me getting traded for you to talk to me again.”

 

“No,” Tyler says finally. “It shouldn’t have.”

 

Segs looks up at him, hurt and anger and every broken thing laying between them written all over his face. “Then why.”

 

“Because we both fucked this up,” Tyler reminds him, “and I didn’t know how to fix it. And I figured if you didn’t either, then…”

 

“Then what, you were just gonna let it ride? We were just never gonna talk to each other again?”

 

Tyler laughs, but it’s hoarse and bitter. “No. I think I took for granted that we wouldn’t be able to stay away from each other.”

 

“That’s kinda the problem,” Segs says. “You took me for granted. That I’d just be there waiting while you did whatever with Julie.”

 

“We took each other for granted,” Tyler points out

 

“Well, can we _stop doing that_?”

 

Tyler knows his face looks hella stupid right now because he’s beaming like an idiot and finally, _finally_ reaching out and taking what he wants, because it seems like maybe he really can have it.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s quit that, it’s fucking terrible” he says, grabbing Segs’ hand and pulling him in to kiss him carefully for the first time in - god, he doesn’t even know how long.

 

(That’s a damn lie. He knows exactly how long, probably down to the timestamp if you give him enough time to think about it.)

 

“It really is,” Segs mumbles, moving to mouth at the spot right behind Tyler’s ear. “How about we actually communicate and shit.”

 

“I can do that.” Tyler gets his hands on Segs’ ass and boosts him up so he can sit on the counter. “No fucking fucking Fred Gervasi.” He punctuates the request with another kiss, this one completely bypassing careful and going right to deep and dirty. It’s everything he’s missed about this, and it’s not nearly enough.

 

“Oh, are we making rules? Then no fucking random chicks.”

 

“Julie wasn’t random, asshole.”

 

“Whatever, no dating anyone but me.”

 

“Shit, I have to take you on _dates_?” Tyler deadpans. He gets a sharp bite to his jaw for that. “Seriously. No fucking Gervasi.”

 

“Dude, I haven’t hooked up with Freddy since like, April. He’s been pushing me to fix shit with you.”

 

“Yeah, he texted you earlier. Something about pining for me.” Tyler grins against Segs’ neck at the punch in the arm that gets him before he returns to his task of mapping the skin of Segs’ throat with wet, open-mouthed kisses.

 

“Fuck him, there was no fucking pining.” Segs finally gets his hands on Tyler’s belt buckle, thank _fuck_.

 

“You linked me to a blog post full of couple-y pictures of us - on twitter, for the entire internet to see - and told me I should show Julie.”

 

“Okay, there was a little pining,” Segs amends. “Fuck, what the fuck is this belt, are you trying to protect your virtue or something? Dude. Help me out here.”

 

“Uh, yeah, upstairs,” Tyler says, feeling Marshall brush up against his legs. “I’m not breaking the no-sex-in-front-of-the-dog rule.”

 

“Right. That. Fuck that rule.”

 

“You _made_ that rule.”

 

“Ty _ler_.”

 

Tyler steps back and really looks at Segs. He’s completely wrecked, face flushed and throat red with what’s going to be some seriously wicked stubble burn in the morning. Tyler is suddenly struck with the desire to see where all else he can make look like that.

 

“Upstairs,” he repeats firmly. “More space.”

 

They’re probably gonna need it.

  
  
  


 

“Don’t _leave_.”

 

The whine makes Tyler laugh, groggy as he feels right now. “Have to. Rookie camp, man.”

 

“Fuck the Flyers.” Segs is sitting up now, and pouting like the spoiled brat he is. Tyler drops the bag he’s haphazardly tossed all his stuff back into and rests a knee on the bed so he can lean over, completely ignoring Segs’ terrible morning breath to kiss him, long and sweet and everything last night wasn’t.

 

“Seriously, fuck ‘em,” Segs mumbles, going limp as his arms curl around Tyler’s neck, pulling him down farther.

 

“You’re going to Dallas in a couple days anyway,” Tyler reminds him. “I’ll call you.”

 

“All the time.”

 

“Skype too,” Tyler promises, stealing another kiss. He needs to go, his cab’s outside, but he can’t pull himself away. “Because we’re gonna communicate and shit.”

 

“So fucking romantic. I’ll believe it when I see it.” Segs flops back on the bed, heaving a loud sigh. “Go. Leave me. It’s _fine_.”

 

“Okay, now you’re just being a drama queen.” Tyler heads for the door anyway, because if he doesn’t leave now he’ll find some excuse not to leave at all. He pauses halfway out, hand on the doorframe. “Love you.”

 

It’s not something they’ve never said to each other before, but it feels like it carries a different weight now.

 

Going by the grin spreading across Segs’ face, it was the right thing to say.

 

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Love you too, asshole. Now get out of here, you’re officially the enemy again.”

 

“You’re not even in my conference anymore!” Tyler yells over his shoulder as he heads down the stairs. “ _Dallas Star_ Tyler Seguin!”

 

“I hope you get traded to Phoenix! Fucker.”

 

Giving Marshall a last scratch on the head, Tyler heads out the front door. Yeah, summer’s over.

 

But maybe it wasn’t so bad.

 


End file.
